Ridiculous Fable
by Munkey Ju
Summary: Perhaps a tad OOC (not quite sure), Azuma shares a story and valuable life lesson with some random person.


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A dim yellow spotlight encases a silhouetted man resting himself comfortably on a cold black stool. He lifts a cigarette to his lips and exhales part of the smoke above him then lowers his head and allows the rest to exit through his mouth and nose. He pauses for a moment, granting you time to settle yourself onto a second stool just three feet away from his. You sit in the darkness and watch the man's outline closely. You cannot tell if he is upset or smirking thoughtfully to himself. You can only wait. Until…  
"I read your story today," he speaks after several moments of silence. "I think it's the worst piece of trash to come this side of GIS. You could have spent the time you wasted in writing this garbage to do something more productive. Let me tell you a story, and I promise it isn't trash."  
  
Once upon a time there lived this instructor. He was no ordinary instructor, but the kind you see stereotyped with the profession we're involved in here. Didn't really care, and if he did it wasn't known by anyone else. One day this instructor was sent out to go fetch these three little kids, not too much older than yourself, and bring them to the school he obviously taught at. I forget the order he picked them up in, but that really isn't important now is it?  
One of these kids was sort of silent, you know the type. They think they're hard asses and could kill heavyweight boxers with their pinkie and thumb. Not true. Anyway, he was an intense looking fellow but he didn't phase the instructor at all. Naturally, he didn't make opinions about his students before seeing them in action. Oh, wait, he did make one universal opinion- they all could not pilot anything without training first and that makes them weak. Well, not actually weak, but you get my point.  
The second kid kept to himself, and with Sunshine in the corner he probably did himself good. I didn't really pay attention to him. I mean, the instructor didn't really pay much attention to him.  
The third kid came bounding on the ship all excited about leaving home for the first time. He wanted to know when he'd get to see Zion, how far away GOA was, and other questions the instructor finally ignored. He could tell it was going to be a long journey back to the sane halls of the Goddess Operations Academy.  
Who am I kidding? I don't think anyone is sane at GOA. Not even Rill, scratch that- ESPECIALLY not Rill. I am of course kidding. No one under the age of twenty three is sane on GOA. We can safely leave it at that.  
So these three little numbskulls are on their way to GOA. Happy, happy, joy, joy. When all of a sudden- a voice descends from the heavens and cries out-  
"Azuma Hijikata! The Planet of the Lost Babes needs your help! They cannot find a third judge for the wet tee-shirt contest!"  
Okay, so that didn't really happen. What am I saying? You weren't there! So the voice continues-  
"As a reward for your services and compensation for your time, we will grant you eternal youth until Rill's thighs get so big she cannot button up her coat any longer!"  
So the instructor enthusiastically shouts, "Hell yes!" and proceeds to throw each of the three youngsters out into space. They kick and squirmed but it only made it that much more enjoyable for the instructor.  
"See you later, suckers! I'm off to the Planet of the Lost Babes!"  
He then took over the transporting ship and headed off to suffer through three hours of a wet tee-shirt contest.  
Little did the instructor know that at that very same moment on GOA- Rill was having herself a huge helping of food she had stolen from the cafeteria when the chef wasn't looking. Her thighs began to swell as her two assistants hurriedly strapped her down to an operating table. They gave her an injection of a chemical that I cannot pronounce and then Rill slipped into unconsciousness.  
Life was about to go all wrong for the instructor. He was banished away to GOA again. To suffer the rest of his life ageing with Doctor "Large Thighs" Rill.  
  
You sit motionless and blinking.   
"What is the point of this, sir?"  
"The point," he slowly walks towards you until his face is mere inches from yours. "The point is that you should never ever eat gluten contained foods if you know you are allergic to them." 


End file.
